If Found Return to Dean Winchester
by JR Granger
Summary: Post season 8 finale, "Sacrifice" Spoilers: season 6, 7, & 8 When Dean called to ask her to keep an eye out for Castiel, Charlie didn't expect to be the one to find him. She should've known better really; ever since meeting the Winchesters the supernatural has been following her around like a lost puppy.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Yeah, I was attacked by another plot bunny._**

* * *

When Dean called to ask her to keep an eye out for Castiel, Charlie didn't expect to be the one to find him. She should've known better really; ever since meeting the Winchesters the supernatural has been following her around like a lost puppy.

Speaking of lost puppies, Castiel looks like one the way he's walking along the side of a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, following the line of a forest, not even looking up as Charlie pulls over her (stolen) care alongside him.

Getting out of the car and jogging over to where Castiel has gotten ahead Charlie pulls on the sleeve of his ratty trenchcoat. "Hey, you're Castiel, right?" she asks when she gets him to turn around.

"Yes," he answers a little too readily. Didn't Dean teach him not to be friendly with strangers who somehow know his name? Oh well, guess it works in her favor.

Charlie smiles. "I have been looking all over for you!" she exclaims. "I mean, Dean told me to keep a lookout for you, and here you are. This is perfect. I'm Charlie by the way."

At the mention of Dean the angel perks up. "Dean sent you?" Looking at the way those eyes shine at that name and that voice brightens – not to mention how worried she remembers Dean sounding, no matter how hard he tried to cover that up – Charlie half expects to find 'if found return to Dean Winchester' written on the inside of that trenchcoat.

Once getting Castiel into the car Charlie considers calling Dean to tell him the good news, but she decides against it; she'd much rather see the look on his face when he finds out Cas is alive and well – relatively speaking at least; he can't be spectacularly if he's wandering along the road and hasn't been able to contact Dean or Sam.

From what she knows of Cas from the _Supernatural _books, Charlie gets the feeling he blames himself for whatever happened to the angels (she got little information on that front from Dean but she gets the inkling he doesn't know much either). And, knowing Dean, and considering the way he clammed up on the topic of Cas last time she saw the Winchesters, Castiel probably thinks Dean is still mad at him for whatever he did. This theory is supported by the way Castiel starts to fidget when she tells him they're about an hour away from the Men of Letters HQ.

In order to distract Castiel, and to find out what all's been happening since Edlund's last book, Charlie gets Castiel to fill in the blanks. It's surprisingly easy; Charlie would've thought with all the time he spends with the Winchester Castiel would've learned a thing or two about evasion. Then again maybe he just wants someone to talk to because there are points in his story where he seems confused about something Dean said or did. Which, of course, is plausible since Castiel has enough trouble understanding modern colloquialisms and such normally, let alone anything to do with _Dean. _

So Charlie feels for him and has the strong urge to wrap him up to a blanket, cuddle him, and have a relaxing Sunday night in teaching Castiel all the fun, finer points of hacking – which is everything. But she made a promise to keep an eye out for Castiel, and she knows Dean will be worried sick till he sees Cas for himself – though he'll never admit it.

Soon enough they reach the bunker and, hiding Castiel around the corner, Charlie gives the secret knock, trying to suppress her excited giggles so as not to give up the surprise right away.

When Dean opens the door and sees whom it is he grins and gives her a hug, though Charlie can see the underlying exhaustion and worry. "Charlie! It's been awhile. What's up?"

Pulling away Charlie grins back. "I have a surprise for you," she rushes out, unable to hold it in for long, "but we should go inside first."

"Okay…" he says a bit suspiciously.

"Oh and you should close your eyes."

"Charlie…"

"Dude, humor me, 'kay? It's awesome, I promise."

With a put upon sigh Dean steps back and closes his eyes, letting Charlie enter, who beckons to Castiel urgently and motions for him to stay silent as the three make their way to the sort of dining/living area, Dean going by memory with his eyes shut. Once Dean stops Charlie motions for Castiel to take up his usual spot within Dean's personal space – which Charlie read about and, okay, it's even better in person; she can't wait for the eye fucking – before announcing "Okay, you can open them now!" with no longer contained excitement.

Opening his eyes to his angel Dean doesn't even flinch, just stands there and stares, mouth gaping and eyes searching his face then flitting across his body, checking for any visible injuries.

"Cas?" he finally gets out after a few tense moments.

"Hello Dean," Castiel replies with his usual greeting just before he's enveloped in a crushing hug of his own, one which he almost gladly returns, eager for the rare affection before Dean undoubtedly throws a 'bitch fit'.

Watching from the sidelines Charlie is witness to a pure Destiel moment. Both men clutch tightly at each other, breathing each other in deeply, savoring the moment. It makes her squee internally seeing her new favorite ship with her very own eyes.

The hug ends far too soon as Dean pulls back but keeps his hands on Cas' shoulders, holding him at arm's length. "You okay man?" And that question has multiple meanings: Is he physically okay? Mentally, emotionally? Did he fall along with his brothers and sisters?

And Castiel's response pretty much answers all of the above. "It's my fault Dean; it's my fault all my brothers and sisters have fallen. I set out to shut the gates of Heaven, to attempt to atone for my sins in Heaven and on Earth, and I failed. Miserably.

"So no Dean, I am not 'okay'." And he actually uses air quotes; Charlie didn't think anyone did that anymore.

Dean actually looks like he doesn't know what to say for a moment, so Charlie takes her chance to fill in a necessary detail. "Actually, it was more Metatron than Cas; he stabbed Naomi in the back of the skull after she warned you guys then took Castiel's Grace before completing the trials to cast out all the angels.

"So yeah. Please don't be mad at Cas; he blames himself enough as it is."

Castiel starts to object, "Charlie -"

"Cas, man, she's right," Dean interrupts. "Did Metatron give me the jeebies? Yeah. Did I find him suddenly being all buddy-buddy with you suspicious? Hell yeah.

"But Cas, man, like I told ya before, you gotta stop blaming yourself for all the problems in Heaven."

Castiel snorts, actually snorts. "I believe this is the moment one would point out you are a kettle."

Chuckling, Dean says, "I think you meant 'the pot calls the kettle black'."

A head tilt and an eye squint. "Yes, that."

And here goes the eye fucking. Holy Rowling it's even hotter in person.

They actually don't look away from each other, forgetting Charlie is even there, until Sam walks in – more stumbles really – and comes to a halt with a surprised "Cas!"

The two reluctantly look away from each other, Cas turning a genuine, slightly dimmer smile on Sam. "Hello Sam," he greets warmly as the younger Winchester comes closer, if a wobbly.

"You okay man, we've been looking for you ever since -" Sam comes to an abrupt halt, highly conscious of what he was about to say. "Are you – Did you -" he attempts to try to find a delicate way of asking, but obviously is hard pressed to find one.

"I am… human. Graceless. Useless." The last word is said so quietly it is hard to hear, but being so close Dean does and he protests.

"Come on Cas, you're not useless."

"I seem to recall a time during our fight against the Apocalypse when I had lost the last of my Grace and you stated I was 'as useful as an infant', or something to that effect."

Charlie remembers reading that line and she still cringes, more so when she sees the hurt Castiel is trying to hide from that memory.

Dean cringes as well. "Cas…"

"And while last we conversed at the bar you did not mention my transgressions not just with the angel tablet but all my others as well, I am aware you are no doubt still angry with me so I will not stay and become a burden once again." He turns to Charlie. "If it is all right with you I would like to accompany you to your next destination and then we can part ways once I can find a means to support myself while I try to find a way to restore my brothers and sisters to Heaven."

"No way, no fucking way," Dean objects immediately, indignant. "You are staying here, and we are helping you get your mojo back."

"Dean -"

"That isn't a request or a suggestion," he interrupts again. "And this time you can't just flap out."

Sam feels the need to add something to counteract Dean's usual harsh brashness. "Yeah Cas, we'll do everything we can to fix this," he says before he starts coughing for a minute.

Perhaps grudgingly and a bit bashfully Castiel ducks his head in acquiescence. "If you insist," he mutters in his gravelly voice.

"We do," Dean says firmly.

A small, almost imperceptible smile crosses Cas' lips, in turn making Dean smile – and there goes the eye fucking again. Man, how can Sam handle this every time he's in a room with these two? Glancing up, Charlie sees a long suffering look on his face and she knows they're in accord that Dean and Cas just need to fuck already and leave everyone else out of it.

Almost like they communicated telepathically, Sam and Charlie leave the room as quietly as they can, heading to the kitchen so as not to interrupt the 'moment'.

Meanwhile, as they share soft smiles in the dining/living area, Castiel and Dean unconsciously gravitate that last little bit of space still left between them, Dean's gaze flickering between Cas's eyes and his lips, giving Cas the chance to back away. Only Castiel surprises him and does the exact opposite, leaning forward that last centimeter to bring their lips together in a chaste kiss that quickly turns a tad desperate, conveying the worry they've felt since they last saw each other, Castiel determined to consume Dean's essence as Castiel twines the fingers of one hand in Dean's hair and the other hand clutches Dean's hip tightly. The urge only intensifies when Dean runs his tongue along Cas' bottom lip, Cas immediately opening his mouth to take in the tongue and suck on it, drawing a broken moan out of the other man.

Far too soon for either of their likings, Dean pulls back and Castiel takes the opportunity to lean their foreheads together, nuzzling Dean's nose with his own.

Chuckling at how ridiculously adorable and affectionate that is, and how hot that kiss was, Dean clutches Castiel closer to him by the hands that are on his lower back and handful of trenchcoat.

"I missed you, man," Dean mutters quietly, less hesitantly than usual. "You have no idea how fucking happy I am that you're okay – well, alive."

Castiel hums in acknowledgement, his eyes closing contently. "I think I do," he says, tightening his grip briefly, gently.

"Wanna head back to my room, get more comfortable and… I don't know, horizontal?" Dean offers, uncharacteristically hesitant about his proposition, hiding his face in Castiel's neck, kissing the pulse lightly and nosing behind his ear at his hairline. As Castiel answers in the affirmative Dean can feel the vibration of his voice in his throat against his lips, a not unpleasant feeling, making Dean smile and pull back, leading Castiel down the hall by the hand that is suddenly clasped firmly in his own.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Rating goes up with this chapter because sexy times are ahead.**_

* * *

In the kitchen Sam insists on making himself and Charlie coffee, even though he looks about ready to keel over and it's nearly two in the morning. Charlie sits on the counter keeping a watchful eye on him.

"Do you think they're talking it out?" she asks into the silence. "Whatever it is Dean was mad at Cas about?"

Turning his back to her to get out a couple coffee mugs, Sam snorts. "Dean, Mr. No Chick Flick Moments, and Cas, who's probably even more emotionally stunted, having been an angel and all? Unlikely."

With a shrug, Charlie hops off the counter and creeps over to the doorway to peak out. "Well I don't hear any shouting or anything."

Lumbering up behind her, Sam leans around Charlie to peer into the dining/living area. "Huh. Must have gone to Dean's room." Charlie raises an eyebrow up at him. "Oh God, I don't wanna know what they might be doing in there."

"Whatever it is I'm sure it's hot as hell," she can't help but add. Sam merely groans at that.

* * *

Erstwhile, in Dean's bedroom, the man himself and his fallen angel set upon continuing what they had started in the other room – if a bit awkwardly. While Castiel certainly has good enough technique, which he learned from the Pizza Man no doubt, he still lacks experience. This certainly isn't a first for Dean, but it does remind him that he needs, and wants to show Castiel exactly how much fun the two of them can have and in how many ways.

Dean starts divesting Castiel of his overcoat, which had gotten a tad ratty especially since he's now human and can't mojo it clean anymore, and he's been wandering along the road and in the woods for weeks, ever since the angels started falling. So actually Dean's more than happy to get rid of that coat for more than one reason – the most important being getting through all the layers Castiel always wore because Dean is very interested in seeing what lies beneath them all – and for a far more pleasurable reason than patching up a gaping wound left by their least favorite demon.

Anyway, time to stop thinking about _Crowley _of all things and start focusing on the incredibly hot former angel above him.

Wait, when did Cas get on top? And when did Dean lose his shirt?

Pulling back, and trying to ignore how the short whine Cas gives goes straight to his cock, Dean looks up at him. "When did we switch places?" he asks, a little lost. "And when'd I lose my shirt? We're supposed to be getting _you _out of all your layers first, not me."

Castiel cocks a brow. "And would that not be easier with me on top?"

"You and your logic." Dean rolls his eyes, setting back to the task of stripping his companion and shoving off the suit jacket, loosening the tie even more than it already is and taking it off over Cas's head, and unbuttoning the dress shirt, all while licking, biting, and sucking that tantalizing skin, earning him full-throated groans and breathy sighs, Cas' hips grinding down into Dean's own, producing nowhere near enough friction.

Once he is shirtless as well, Castiel breaks away from the kiss with a pop, placing his lips instead at the point behind Dean's left ear at the joint of his jaw. This being a particular sweet spot of his Dean's hips jerk up while he turns his head more to the side to give Cas more access. A groan is pulled out of Dean when Cas brushes one of his hands over the growing bulge in Dean's jeans, the other making quick work of the belt.

Soon enough Dean is in nothing but his boxers while Cas is still in his trousers, so Dean moves his own hands down Cas' spine and around his hips, shoving off the offending garment. Castiel sighs in relief when his swollen cock is released from its cloth confine; apparently Jimmy liked to go commando, even when he was getting dressed to serve as an angel's errand boy. After that Dean's boxers just seem to disappear as he flips them over, pinning Cas to the bed as Dean works a wet, sloppy trail down Cas' surprisingly toned chest to his groin. But instead of turning his attention to the cock with slowly beading pre-cum, Dean sucks at the crease between hip and thigh. Cas squirms, attempting to shift Dean to his aching flesh, making Dean chuckle though he doesn't move from where he's latched on till he's good and ready.

Or until Cas roughly grabs the hair at the nape of his neck, hauls him up till their faces are level, and growls, "Get a move on or I will be taking over and showing you torturing with no end."

Dean chuckles once again. "Please, sweetheart, I'm pretty sure if anyone's going to be doing the torturing in the sack it's gonna be me."

Castiel growls – which, holy hell, hot as fuck – and smashes their mouths together, teeth clacking a little painfully before he shoves in his tongue roughly, flipping them over again. Grunting in surprise, Dean tries to regain the upper hand but, well, his hands are trapped above his head, which is actually pretty hot; Dean's always had a bit of a weakness for a partner who takes charge.

One hand occupied keeping hold of Dean's, Castiel removes his tongue from Dean's mouth, replacing it with three of his fingers, pushing on Dean's tongue insistently until Dean sucks, slavering them up by wrapping his tongue around them, drawing another groan out of Cas at the suction. After a few moments Castiel is satisfied so he removes them to relocate them, moving between Dean's legs, bending them at the knees and spreading them, his hands reaching down and behind Dean's balls, ghosting over the perineum before circling around the puckered muscle further back.

Breath hitching, Dean struggles against the hand holding him down. "Cas, wait," he moans, drawing the name out. "Buddy – buddy – wait – hold on. We gotta use more than just my spit."

Glaring at the interruption, but conceding that Dean is most likely in the right, having much more experience than he in this department, Castiel releases his grip on Dean's wrists and sits back on his heels, allowing Dean to scramble to the bedside table and dig in the drawer for the lube and condoms – because, hey, even though he's pretty sure Cas is more than clean, better safe than sorry. And he still can't forget the last time he opted out on a condom (though, admittedly, there's no chance either of them are getting pregnant).

As soon as he gets back to where Castiel is crouching in the middle of the bed Dean is practically tackled, teeth scrapping at his tongue while Cas' hand searches the bed beside them for the lube. When his fingers close around the tube Cas sets about spreading lube on the fingers Dean had sucked, moving his hand down once more, fingers circling lightly before pushing in the tip of his index finger then stopping, waiting for the muscles to relax and smooth his way a bit.

Tensing for a moment, Dean settles, knowing the pain will only be momentary and so worth the mind-numbing, toe-curling pleasure.

For, until recently, being a junk-less dick Castiel is doing pretty well, before long moving on to two fingers, then three. Then, scissoring and curling them nearly expertly, he brushes across Dean's prostate, causing Dean to shoot up and bump their heads together, which could've been a setback but Dean just snorts and Castiel chuckles and smirks devilishly, curling his fingers in the same direction. After a few minutes of constant attention to his prostate Dean knows he can't take much more, inattention to his dick be damned (he always was ridiculously sensitive).

"CasCasCas, buddy," he groans throatily, grabbing at Cas' wrist, "we really gotta move this along or I'm not gonna last much longer."

Their eyes meet; both with lust-blown pupils, breathing quickened and skin sweat-slick. Castiel nods erratically, pulling his fingers out carefully, Dean giving a whimper at the loss, a sound he will deny making every single time this and similar scenes play out.

Fingers twitchy, Cas rushes to open the condom packet, rolling it on securely and slicking himself up with more lube. Arranging Dean according to his specifications – on his back, legs spread, knees bent, allowing Cas to settle between them – Castiel leans down for a messy kiss, Dean's hand curling into his disheveled hair and holding him there. With a hand between them Cas guides himself into Dean's entrance, moving slowly to allow Dean time to relax, the muscles almost greedily sucking him the rest of the way in, drawing strained groans out of the both of them.

For a minute Cas stays still, straining not to thrust with abandon like he so aches to do, waiting for the go ahead from Dean, which he gets soon enough in the form of a growl of "move already and none of that slow and gentle bullshit." Giving a strained chuckle Castiel happily pulls out all the way and slams back in.

As the two move, they shift to and fro from in tandem to sloppy thrusts and rolls, moans, gasps, and breathy laughs rending the air as they trade slippery kisses with too much tongue, teeth, and spit.

After several minutes of this Castiel decides to rearrange Dean's legs, wrapping one around his waist and propping the other on his shoulder. The change in angle allows Cas to hit upon Dean's prostate with every stroke in, bringing out an unending litany of expletives from Dean, whose thrusts grow more desperate, his hands clawing at Cas' back, ass, hips, arms, and hair, searching for a place to hold onto and urge him on. Cas is more than happy to oblige, going faster, rougher, moving the hand not holding Dean's leg on his shoulder down to Dean's neglected erection. With the combined attentions to his prostate and dick Dean comes on both their abdomens after just a handful more jerks and thrusts, Cas stroking him through his orgasm. Groaning as the muscles contract around him Cas keeps moving, still hitting upon Dean's oversensitive prostate, thrusts growing more and more erratic and desperate until he reaches his own peak, turning his head to muffle slightly his loud moans in Dean's knee, still on his shoulder.

Once done he pulls out, letting down Dean's legs so he's lying flat on the bed before collapsing on top of him and knocking the already limited breath out of them both, ignoring the mess between them. Tucking his face into Dean's neck, Castiel kisses the sweaty flesh nearest to his lips, fighting for his breath. Beneath him, Dean attempts to take deep breaths, one hand stroking over the bumps of Cas' spine, the other carding through the sweat-damp, softly curling hair at the nape of Cas' neck.

When Dean starts chuckling weakly Cas pulls back to look at him through slightly blurry, drowsy eyes. "What?" he rasps.

"Nothing," Dean whispers with a genuine smile that keeps growing, pulling Cas' head down by the hand on his neck to rest their foreheads together, fingers still playing with his hair. "It's just good to have you home."

Castiel closes his eyes again contently; leaning down just that little bit more to bring their lips together in a tender kiss. Sighing into it, Dean melts. It doesn't last for long though as they feel Dean's cum drying between them and Cas' leaking out of Dean's hole, which is more than a little gross.

Scrunching his nose, Dean breaks away. "We need to clean up," he says at a normal volume. "And you should probably shower; you've been on the road for weeks."

With a sigh – he was really looking forward to sleeping on an actual bed, with Dean – Castiel relents, rolling off Dean and the bed to a standing position. Getting up as well, Dean stands behind him and whispers in his ear, "That was some superb torture back there; I'll be feeling it for days," earning him a shiver before he grabs some boxers, shirts, and robes for them both, then leading Cas to the bathroom quickly, shutting the door behind them with a click.

* * *

When they hear Dean's door creep open over an hour, scurrying footsteps, then the bathroom door clicking shut, Sam and Charlie are pretty sure they know what went down.

"That's – I – Yeah" is all Sam can say.

Charlie smiles. "Hey, at least now Dean will stop moping around and worrying about Cas."

With a huff, Sam gives a rueful smile of his own. "Yeah, small miracles," he sighs. "Now I just have to deal with them having sex all the time.

"And this is Dean and Cas, so the peace won't last for long."

Shrugging, Charlie gives him a pat on the lower back, where she can reach easiest. "Take what you can get Sam. And maybe get some for yourself."

* * *

_**Shh just take sappy bottom!Dean while you can. Like Sam said it won't last for long; soon enough Dean will go back to his bitch fits and Cas will keep blaming himself for everything.**_


	3. Chapter 3

Kevin wanders into the kitchen to find it already occupied by a familiar angel (thank god, maybe now Dean'll be tolerable at the very least) and a beautiful redhead, both drinking coffee in companionable silence. Ruffling his still wet hair Kevin walks up to her with a smile.

"Hey," he says, eloquent as ever in the morning (just because he was an AP student doesn't mean he's any better at talking to a pretty face, especially one wearing an awesome fandom t-shirt). "I'm Kevin."

"Charlie," she says with a tired smile, gulping down more coffee.

After a few moments of silence she speaks up again. "You're the new prophet, right?"

Kevin flinches slightly. "Yeah…" he draws out the word. "Not the best job on the market."

"And you don't even get to write cool stories like the other guy," Charlie agrees sympathetically.

The conversation lulls for a few minutes, but it's not the most awkward one either of them have experienced. As for Cas? Well he's not the best judge of what's awkward and what's not; he just continues to sit quietly at the counter, drinking his coffee.

Realizing he recognizes her name and description Kevin starts conversation back up. "Hey aren't you the hacker that helped out with the Leviathan?"

With a shudder Charlie confirms. "Glad we don't have to deal with them anymore."

He chuckles. "Yeah. That's pretty cool though, what you do. The hacking I mean."

"It is the best," Charlie agrees. "I could show you the basics sometime; it's easy."

"Yeah? That'd be great."

"Quit trying to flirt Kev," Dean yawns as he walks in heading straight for the coffee maker; "you're so not her type."

"I'm not flirting," Kevin protests weakly while Charlie laughs good-naturedly.

"Can't blame him for trying," she quips back. "I mean look at me."

Dean snorts, leaning his hip against the counter right next to Cas, sipping casually. When Kevin raises his eyebrow Charlie just smirks, which is answer enough.

At last Castiel says something, shifting his gaze from empty space to Kevin. "I wanted to apologize for what I said before, about never getting out of the life till your death."

The statement is a bit awkward, and really unexpected for how deadly serious and intimidating he had been at the time, but Kevin accepts it. "It's okay; you're kinda right. I mean, it doesn't make me miss my old life any less, or make me feel any better about all the shit that's happened in the last two years but, uh, thanks."

Castiel just nods.

"I, uh, sorry about all the angels," Kevin says reluctantly, regretting it immediately when Cas stiffens.

"It is not your fault," he says rigidly; "I did not give you proper time to translate the Tablet and instead took the word of an angel who had been gone for centuries and was clearly disgruntled with all of Heaven.

"If anyone is at fault it is me," he says more quietly, looking down at the mug between his hands.

Charlie makes a sympathetic noise in her throat. "Cas, we've been over this; if anyone's to blame, it's that douche Metatron."

"Seriously Cas," Dean rumbles, setting down his mug roughly and making some coffee slosh over the sides, "how many times do I have to tell you? _Stop blaming yourself for everything!_"

"Why shouldn't I?" Castiel grumbles sullenly right back. "It's my fault Crowley ever got the Angel Tablet and it was my Grace that completed the spell that cast all the angels out of Heaven."

"Well I'm not gonna argue with you on the Tablet; that was all on you," Dean responds snidely, crossing his arms over his chest. "And all because you couldn't trust us, trust _me _even after everything."

"As you have informed me of this multiple times Dean, I am more than well aware," Cas retorts sarcastically.

"As you damn well better be!" Dean yells. "But you gotta stop blaming yourself for the angels buddy. I mean, it's not like you gave Metadick your Grace willingly."

"But, as stated previously, I trusted him when he had been gone for centuries; I trusted he was giving me the correct trials to close Heaven down when I should have been questioning them – particularly when the first was to kill an innocent niphilim girl."

"But this guy was the scribe, the dude who wrote down God's Word or whatever; of course you would be expecting him to give you the right info!"

"Dean, you yourself said we should have been checking the Angel Tablet, but I gave Kevin no time! And you didn't trust Metatron! So, again, it's all on me!"

While the two stand on opposite sides of the kitchen, bickering and going around in circles, Charlie and Kevin decide to get out of the line of fire and head to the library, where she left her laptop. They can still hear yelling but at least they're not in the middle of it.

* * *

By midday Charlie is to some of the more advanced stuff, Kevin following along just fine being a genius and all, and the yelling hasn't died down one bit. In fact, they think it's gotten worse as they've caught a few snatches about trust and needing and brainwashing, and telltale shatters of things being thrown against the walls. Sam comes shuffling out, still looking groggy as he yawns and rubs at his eyes, flopping down across from them.

"They finally going at it?" he mumbles tiredly, fighting to keep his eyes open. The other two nod. "About time; I was pretty surprised when we made it through the night without, well, this." He waves a hand in the direction of the kitchen, where something else can be heard smashing against the wall followed by a loud thump that is most likely a body being shoved against said wall.

Sighing, Charlie sits back and watches Kevin, keeping an eye out for mistakes. "It had started out as such a nice morning too."

Kevin nods, not taking his eyes off the screen as he types quickly. "Yeah but maybe once they get it out of their systems everything will calm down." That earns him a snort from Sam and an incredulous look from Charlie. "Yeah, you're right, what was I thinking?"

The yelling eventually stop only for the three to see Castiel stomping out of the kitchen, trailed by a thunderous Dean, both ignoring them. When a bedroom door slams Dean yells, "Don't you fucking slam _my _bedroom door in my face!" A muffled response comes through the wood to which Dean responds, "Did you just curse at me in Enochian, you little shit?"

Castiel opens the door long enough to growl, " There are no foul words in Enochian as it is the language of _angels _but the sentiment is the same," before slamming the door again.

"You open this door right now you son of a bitch," Dean yells, pounding, "I'm not finished with you yet." When the only sound that answers is a heavy object being thrown at the door he kicks it hard in response before stomping past the three observers and out the front door.

Silence falls, interrupted when Kevin finally speaks up after several moments. "It's not gonna get any better around here is it?"

"If by 'better' you mean 'worse'," Sam can't help remark sarcastically.

* * *

By dinnertime, with Dean still gone, Sam decides he's given Castiel enough time and goes looking for him. The door to Dean's room opens, empty, when he knocks on the door and all the rooms, aside from Kevin and Charlie's, are empty as well as the bathroom and the gym.

Next stop: shooting range

As he nears the range Sam can hear shots being fired one after another. The sight that meets his eyes when he enters is a shocking one though he knows it shouldn't be. Castiel has been in existence for longer than the concept of time, has been watching humanity since it began; he's bound to have picked up a few things, even if it's not pop culture and figures of speech.

Castiel is standing there with a Glock pistol – which he most likely got from Dean's room – shooting the target all the way at the end of the line, hitting mostly the head and the heart, plus the general areas of major organs. Waiting till he finishes the magazine, Sam walks up behind, Sam walks up behind him, sure to make enough noise so as not to startle him or anything.

"He still hasn't forgiven me," Castiel says into the deafening silence, not moving to reload, "for anything."

Frowning, Sam protests, albeit weakly, "Now that's not true; he's forgiven you for all the things Naomi made you do."

"Because Naomi made me do them," he grumbles. "Everything after the Angel Tablet, combined with the Purgatory deal with Crowley and the spying and lying? He thinks I don't trust him. And he certainly doesn't trust me any longer."

When Sam has no response to that Castiel continues, "And he shouldn't because I don't know how to do a single thing right; every single time I think I do it brings death and destruction."

Sam snorts. "Which is one of the reasons why you're an honorary Winchester." Placing a tentative hand on his shoulder – he knows Cas is most likely just as emotionally stunted as Dean, considering he hasn't had emotions for long and learns everything new from Dean and Sam – Sam tries a comforting smile. "Look man, I know better than anyone what it's like to put so much stock in Dean's words and how hurtful they can really be.

"Dean not trusting you? I've been there. But when it counts he'll come around. You just have to give him time, let him cool off.

"And in the mean time? You gotta forgive yourself man." Cas opens his mouth to interrupt but Sam lifts his hands to stop him. "We heard you in the kitchen Cas, and I know you, at least to a point; you're blaming yourself for _everything _when none of it is your fault. You were played. Your heart and guilt were used against you, just like Crowley used them against you.

"You work on that and maybe Dean will come around. Even if he doesn't, you gotta stop or it'll destroy you. Trust me man, I would know. And so would Dean."

Clenching his jaw and staring into the distance Cas thinks over Sam's words; they're basically the same as what Dean had said that morning just a lot more gentle, as was Sam's way. Eventually he nods and sighs, thought he doesn't relax even a fraction of an inch. Taking what he can get, Sam offers a smile and claps him on the shoulder before leaving again. Castiel continues to stand there before turning back to the range, reloading the gun and shooting a new target, point blank.

* * *

Two in the morning finds Dan shutting off the ignition of the Impala and heading quietly into the bunker, leaving the lights off as he makes his way back to his room. The door is closed and a light shines through the crack. Opening the door slowly Dean peeks through and sees Castiel sitting in the bed on top of the covers, slumped over with an old MoL book held open in his lap.

Shutting the door behind him with a near-silent snick, Dean creeps over to the bed and sets the book gently in front of the lamp that's still on, pulls off Cas' shoes, and carefully lifts his legs so Dean can get the covers over him, then shuts the light off, getting himself ready for bed in the dark, habitual and routine. Once done he slides in carefully before yanking Cas over until his head is pillowed on his chest. Immediately Cas nuzzles into him, his arm wrapping securely around Dean's waist as their legs tangle. Dean sighs into the chocolate hair tickling his chin, wrapping an arm of his own around his fallen angel, pointing their fight out of mind and closing his eyes.

* * *

**_A/N: Apologies for the angst, but you had to know it was coming. As you can see from the cuddles_**Dean **_initiates upon his return, they are on the road to forgiveness. And hey, maybe there will be angry and/or apology sex._**


	4. Chapter 4

******_EDIT: Don't mind me, just making corrections because I'm a fucking grammar freak and it was eating away at me. Don't know when next upload will be, sorry; my creative whims sadly do not work on a schedule, the damn bastards._**

* * *

One of the most unpleasant things Castiel has experienced since having his Grace taken from him is the feeling of having to go to the bathroom, a feeling that is even more annoying and bothersome when it wakes him up – though, admittedly, this rest hadn't been particularly comfortable or restful after the long fight he and Dean had the day before.

He is so focused on getting to the bathroom and relieving his bladder that he doesn't notice that Dean had returned sometime in the night and had been wrapped around him from behind.

When he returns to the room, yawning, Castiel notices he has a bedmate and suddenly he's not so tired anymore, the fight and his insecurities and fears still fresh in his mind. So he decides to grab a change of clothes, maybe find Sam and see if he wants to spar, but he trips over one of Dean's boots and curses loudly. At the noise Dean sits up quickly in the bed, grabbing his nearest gun and aiming in Castiel's direction before noticing the source.

"Cas?" Dean mumbles groggily, putting the gun back. "What are you doing? What time is it? You okay?"

Kicking the shoe savagely aside so it's by the wall Castiel continues to the door, clothes in hand. "Just go back to sleep Dean," he answers glumly before leaving, nearly slamming the door behind him and leaving a still sleepy and more than a little confused Dean sitting up in bed and staring at the back of the door. After a few minutes the exhaustion outweighs the confusion and he falls back into a fitful sleep, face buried in the pillow Castiel had been using.

* * *

Dean wakes up again with a lurch, immediately searching for Cas and coming up with an empty, cold bed and room. So after quickly relieving his bladder he makes his way out of the library, where he finds Charlie and Kevin doing something with a laptop again.

"Hey, you guys seen Cas?"

Without looking up Kevin answers, "Yeah, he's in the gym sparring with Sam; they've been at it for a couple hours."

This information makes Dean grind his teeth; neither of them should be fucking sparring, especially not Sam who is still recovering from the trials. "_Why _have they been sparring?"

"Sam said he's trying to get his strength back up," Charlie informs, "so what better way than to spar with someone who knows all fighting techniques invented ever?"

Dean rolls his eyes and turns to head through the labyrinth of halls to the gym when Charlie's voice starts up again, stopping him. "And I think Cas is just happy to be useful, you know?"

He doesn't turn back around, just stands there as his heart breaks a little at that.

"I think he's afraid you won't want him around anymore since he lost his mojo."

"Where the hell would he get that idea?" he grits out.

Charlie responds quietly, "I think you know Dean."

Dammit. Of course Charlie would know about all the horrible things he had ever said about or to Cas about usefulness. He closes his eyes and an image of Cas from the 2014 that never was swims up, unwanted. Could he still end up that way if he gets the impression that he's not wanted or needed when he hasn't got any mojo?

Clenching his fists Dean brushes that thought aside; not happening on his watch. He grunts out a thanks to Kevin and Charlie before marching off to the gym, determined to get across to Cas that no matter how often or badly they get angry with each other and fight, Dean's never going to not want him around.

Within a few minutes he reaches his destination, opening the door and heading to the back corner of the large room where the floor-to-ceiling matting was. What he finds is actually pretty hilarious: Cas, who's about half a foot shorter than Sam, flipping said Winchester over his back and pinning him down quite easily, one arm held across his throat and the other holding both wrists down, and straddling his waist in just the right spot, not too high or too low, Cas' body weight holding Sam down. Both are panting and sweating but Cas' expression is a damn right grin for him.

"I win," he gloats, still slightly out of breath, before standing up fluidly and offering a hand up to Sam.

Dean can't help but laugh as Sam winces slightly, though he is smiling good-naturedly. "How many times is that?"

"Twenty-four to sixteen for Cas," Sam answers, massaging his throat.

"Damn Sammy, you're slippin' again," chuckles Dean, coming closer to ruffle Cas' sweaty hair to get it off his forehead.

Humming quietly and leaning into the touch a little bit, Cas gets an evil smirk, running high on adrenaline. "Would you like a turn?"

He protests, "Oh no no, it wouldn't be fair; you're not fresh man."

Sam decides to goad them on. "Come on Dean; fight with your boyfriend. Not scared of getting beat, are ya?" He gives a shit-eating grin.

Scowling, Dean shoves him. "Shut up bitch, I ain't scared." The grin doesn't budge so Dean throws his arms up in defeat. "Fine! I'll spar with Cas!"

Without warning Dean is grabbed by the arm and flipped over Cas' back and slammed down then pinned onto the mat just the same as Sam had been a minute ago. Spluttering, Dean plants his feet flat and hikes his legs up until his thighs meet Cas' back, digs his elbows into the mat by his sides, and shifts all his weight onto his upper back and shoulders, making Cas overbalance and tumble forward, transitioning into a somersault and rolling onto his feet and from then the match is pretty much even. That is until Cas does some crazy krav maga move or something, Dean ending up on his stomach with his legs trapped by Cas' arms, his own arms pinned to his back by Cas' ass and torso, and head between Cas' thighs. Sam is cheering and laughing obnoxiously, the bastard, while Dean lies there dazed and confused.

From above him comes Cas' voice, all smug as you please, the fucker. "Do you give?" Grunting, Dean admits defeat. When it's been a few minutes since Cas has let him go and Dean still isn't getting up Cas lies down across from him so their faces are relatively close. "You okay baby?"

The endearment startles Dean considering their fight and, well, it's Cas so he can't help the startled laugh. "Yeah," he chuckles, pushing himself up with a groan. "Damn Cas, you got some moves."

Smiling softly, Cas looks down at his feet, shuffling them a tiny bit while Dean scratches at the back of his neck, both of them wanting to say something, but knowing what precisely to say or do. Finally Dean clears his throat, not having anything planned to say really, when Cas beats him to the punch.

"I, uh, you're right," he says, speech oddly stilted. "I do need to – I'm going to work on it, not blaming myself for every single thing." He looks up at Dean, eyes a little shiny. "But I – I need to feel useful; I need to be needed." Before Dean can interrupt at That Cas goes on quickly to explain, "I know you've said you do, but _I don't know how exactly you mean._"

Before he can debate with himself Dean pulls Cas in and wraps him up in his arms, Cas frozen for a second then going all octopus arms and hooking his chin over Dean's shoulder and burrowing his nose into the hair behind his ear. "I just need you, here, with me. And Sammy and Kev and Charlie. And not going off without warning or reason."

Sighing tremulously Cas doesn't say anything. Instead he shifts to trail kisses from Dean's ear, along his jaw, up his chin, and to his lips, kissing Dean with feeling and letting him know he'll do his best from now on. It's not the best answer but he'll take it.

The kisses quickly turn heated, clothes being clutched tightly and pushed out of the way, both men losing their shirts. Castiel mouths at Dean's chest, sucking at the skin in the sensitive spots he's been finding, Dean's head falling back against the padded wall (when'd they end up there?) and hands sneaking down the back of Cas' gym shots to clutch at his ass and drag him closer, bringing their groins together with not nearly enough friction.

By far, Cas' favorite spot to lavish on Dean's abdomen is just below the clavicle, right where the anti-possession tattoo is, and he does so, sucking and nipping at the skin while his hands insert themselves between their bodies to shove aside their shorts and bring their developing erections together, making Dean moan into his hair. The only lubricant is that provided by their sweat and the little pre-cum they've produced thus far, creating friction on the delicate line between pleasure and pain.

Breathing heavily through clenched teeth and cringing slightly, Dean loosens his hold on Cas' ass-cheeks to use one hand to halt Cas' progress and the other to pull him back lightly by his hair. "Cas, buddy, baby," Dean pants, tightening his hold on Cas' hair and wrist when he attempts to dive back in. "We really need lube or this is gonna hurt like hell."

Dropping his head to rest on Dean's shoulder and letting go of their cocks, Cas growls in frustration and is sorely tempted to punch the wall near their heads. "Why can't we just use our saliva and sweat?" he practically whines, voice muffled by Dean's neck.

Dean nuzzles at the hair just above his ear, holding back a snicker and massaging the back of his neck to calm him down. "Hey man, it's okay; we can always do this any time."

Huffing, Cas lifts his head to glare at him. "Why am I the sexually frustrated one; shouldn't that be you?" This time Dean doesn't hold back his laughter, his head falling back against the wall as he chortles and Cas continues to glare. "I hate you," Cas grumbles as he pulls back to tuck in his now soft dick.

Still laughing Dean tucks himself back in as well before reaching forward and grabbing Cas by either side of his head to place a kiss at his hairline – incredibly sappy but he's just in that sorta mood. And it gives him the chance to murmur into his hair "I'm sorry" and "You're not useless, never useless" because that's the best he can do. Thankfully Cas knows and understands, not being much better himself; he knows Dean is apologizing for how the fight escalated, for not ensuring Cas knew what he meant each time he said he needed him.

This isn't the best way to settle an argument – storming out pissed, leaving bed without saying anything while the other was asleep, nearly having rough and painful sex against the gym wall, apologizing so quietly Cas barely heard – but's it's Dean and Cas and it's how they and their… relationship work. And hey, they'll most likely be having make-up sex later and make-up sex is awesome. Or so Dean's heard.

* * *

**_A/N: Before anyone asks: yes, Sam got out of there while Dean was spread out on the mat, sensing the couple needed a moment. And yes, next chapter will include apology sex - might be the last chapter actually because I don't see any sense in dragging this out and forcing more of a storyline on it. We'll see._**


End file.
